All I Want
by Atheniandream
Summary: 4.05 Episode Tag-on. "The only thing I got going on tonight, is You."


All I Want

By Atheniandream

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Notes:

I may write a SHEDLOAD for this one minute of a moment... :faceplant:

Episode Add-on 4.05

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_"The only thing I got going on tonight...is **you**."_

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The words were still ringing in her ears when she twitches at the sound of the car door closing, as Harvey's form slides across the seat, straightening against the backrest.

Her eyes wander up to his, her fingers still wrapped around the bouquet as her lashes flutter for a second, catching his own gaze as it locks willingly with hers. He immediately smirks, a challenging look in his eyes.

"What?" He asks, mock tiredly as his face tilts a little at a questioning angle.

"Nothing," She replies, wide eyed as she shrugs, looking straight ahead, nonchalantly.

"So Louis...isn't in this one, right?" He asks, changing the subject.

"No. You're safe tonight." She smiles. "I don't have to hold these the entire way there, right?"

"No?" He frowns, a humour lighting his eyes.

"Well, I can't just put them on the seat, they'll spoil before I've even gotten to my dressing room." She remarks, laying a little more bait than she'd intended to.

"It's less than ten minutes away, Donna." He groans, rolling his eyes at her impatience, reaching over to wrap a hand around the silk covered stems.

At first she pulls back, eyeing him with a warning she herself was slightly unsure of, until he narrows his eyes and smirks, tugging the flowers out of her grasp with a shit eating grin.

"_I'll_ hold them. But only until we get there." He says, a tenderness peeking out between the edges of the words.

"Well aren't I getting lucky tonight," She observes, the words rolling foolishly off of her tongue before her brain can even engage in it's usual fashion.

"**_Who said anything about just getting lucky tonight_**? He plays, his lips pouting ever so slightly as his cheekbones sharpen against the square plains of his face.

She wasn't sure why.

Habit.

Retrospective indifference.

_Fear._

Her face falls instantly, her throat tightening in a way that makes her question the legitimacy of his words. Not for their weakness, but for their sheer force of power. She watches, eyes feeling cold and fixed against the air conditioning floating around her in a loosely led draft as he collects that difference, his own eyes narrowing in an instant at the sudden change in her.

"Too far?" He winces, the words alien-like and very un-Harvey and so tender.

"Never used to be." She observes, matter-of-factly and all too seriously.

"Yes. _They did_. But then...they stopped being that way. If I remember,"

"**Because we got over it,** Harvey." She tells him, with every fibre of her being as it rolls off of her tongue with the kind of practise she had always honed for just this teeter towards_ that_ kind of conversation.

His teeth clench then. He looks at her, flowers in hand, a measured stare in his eyes, observing every little line, every freckle, every eyelash on her face.

When she stares back, leaning in fractionally, he says nothing, just for a moment, before his face falls forward, poker faced and level as he sits a little straighter in his seat. A preparation.

"Harvey?" She asks, suddenly shocked and trying to cut him off at the pass when another more sudden impulse of his completely throws her off his usually predictable steps of behaviour. She feels the disconnect, but somehow not a severe one, like he's holding a hand of cards he's sure he's going to win the jackpot with.

When he finally looks back to her, she's completely out of steps to be ahead of him.

"Donna," He says softly.

"...Harvey…?" She finds herself repeating, her eyebrows raising at the growing previously unexplored territory.

"So, is there gonna be an afterparty tonight, or I am I taking you to dinner after?" He asks, a irk in his voice.

"Harvey. You have work in the morning." She chides, rolling her eyes at him.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I might," He draws a breath, looking briefly about the car. "**_Take the morning off_**." He says.

"Not with me, you're not!" She replies haughtily, gaining back some of the momentum that she usually has in spades.

He chews on his lip, swallowing her reply with an entertained grin as his right eyebrow twitches at something playing in the periphery of his imagination. "Are you usually this difficult on a date?"

"What?" She blinks, her stomach squirming ever so slightly.

"I'm just asking… are you a pain in the ass with me, or with all men in general?" He asks, entertainment evident on his waiting features.

"I don't know. Guess it, depends what they want from me." She says, a fire eventually lighting her eyes. She feels the car slow as lights of the small billboard cast a yellow hue to his side of the car.

He smiles then, getting out of the car, before she even has time to plan ahead. In very casual second, he's opening the door, staring down at her with an expectancy. "Come on, Drama Queen, it's**_Showtime_**." He remarks, smiling as he backs away for her to slide out of the seat, shutting the door behind herself.

When she reaches the sidewalk he hands her the bouquet, a private smile to himself that she's too nervous to even question at this point. They fall into step as they wander into the building, people milling about and around them at varied paces.

She vaguely feels his breath travel past her ear.

"Oh _and_," He remarks, leaning into her. "**_I'm in the front row_**."

"You can't sit in the front row, Harvey!" She objects, shaking her head as a bead of sweat emerges somewhere down her electric blue back.

"**_I don't want to miss a thing_**." He smiles, another shit eating grin lighting up the self-satisfied look he gives her.

They pause at a narrow corridor to where the dressing rooms start.

"Aerosmith? **_Really?_**" She questions bluntly, whipping around to tap her foot on the floor as she scrunches her nose at his choice of quotation.

"Go get dressed." He orders boldly, straightening to his usual height above hers.

"**_Turn off your phone_**," She counters, flipping her hair behind her as she turns on a heel.

It's about five and a half steps before she hears. "And Donna?"

"What?" She asks, relaxing finally at their comfortable rhythm.

"_Break a leg_?" He offers, humour-filled as his fingers twitch against his sides.

"As if I need it." She scoffs, rolling her eyes to turn back in her original direction.

She hears it then, as if she wasn't meant to but her ears couldn't help it, a reverence in his voice as his whisper reaches her ears, just before the wake of her exit.

She doesn't turn back.

But she smiles all the way to the vase on her desk.

And for the first time, _she has no idea what is going on._

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_Well i know i'm hard to take_

_And my bones are calling out your name_

_While i beat your cold windows_

_Break the locks on the gate_

_while i try to forget i used to be something great_

_Because you're all that i want._

- By Dawn Golden


End file.
